Merlin, Not Another Cliché!
by The Dying Duck
Summary: A series of funny, SEPERATE one-shots dedicated to sexy-pureblood-abused-cliched!Hermione and GreekGod-redeemed-snarky-cliched!Draco. Features overused plots, bizarre twists, and rampant exploitation of the characters. All in good fun!
1. Punk Rock Depression

The Big Cliché

Subtitle: Punk Rock Depression 

**Summary**: Sick of those stories where our lovely Draco is transformed into Muggle-clothed, punk, bad-ass and Hermione becomes beautiful but depressed and they INSTANTLY fall in love? Introducing role reversal: Punk Hermione and Depressed Draco. 

**Rating**: PG-13. Sexual references, bad words. Nothin too explicit.

Hermione lay on her bed, her massive D cups heaving up and down as she breathed. It was a lovely, lazy summer's day and she was bored. Thank God she was leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow. She swung her legs over and got up, checking herself out in the mirror. The dark black eyeliner smudged under her eyes gave her an awesome look, or so she thought. She looked like the Smashin' Pumpkins lead singer, Po (short for POSER!!). She trailed her fingertips across her nose, the fifty nose rings feeling a little bumpy. She could breathe right out of the cartilage if she ever took them out, she supposed. Well that was a plus to dropping all that money on the rings. But most of all she adored her lip ring. It was a tiny little symbol of Satan, her newest obsession. 

She slicked on three gallons of Sticky Red Annoying Shit, her favorite lip gloss ever, and rubbed her lips together. To her shock, her lips were stuck together! "Mmmph, Mmph, mmmmmmmmmmph!" she screamed, trying to loosen them. Suddenly she heard a sound at the window.

"Sounds erotic, Granger." She looked up and in her surprise saw a sleep-deprived Malfoy. 

Suddenly able to speak again, because the author didn't bother to remember that her lips were stuck together, she opened her mouth to release the sweetest sound Malfoy'd ever head. She belched.

"Good one, Mione!" Malfoy said, suddenly deciding to become courteous and nice and polite. The author passed it off as multiple-personality disorder. Hey, wizards can get that too, okay? Oh wait, they can't? Well then, the author huffed, story's AU 'cause I'm too lazy to change that.

"Thanks, Draco! Wow, you're really hot! Did you just suddenly change over the summer like a mofo?"

"You betcha, gee, by golly whiz, I sure did and you're lookin' mighty purdy in that lovely little Goth outfit. Make the skirt shorter, my sweet cupcake, and we've got us a field of corn! Yum, yum if you know what I mean, hun bun!" (Another personality switch, the author decided. Malfoy can be Southwestern!). 

"Hey, wait a minute," Hermione said slowly. "What the hell are you doing outside my window before school starts in my Muggle neighborhood when you hate Muggles, especially me?" Of course, it had taken her this long to ask him that. He was only her archenemy, and she was only the smartest girl in the school. 

Suddenly Malfoy's blue-green eyes began to water. The author obviously didn't remember or didn't bother to look up Malfoy's real eye color, so she picked what she liked best. 

"Drakie, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, suddenly perturbed. A punk rock chick with a huge motherly instinct. We're all entitled to our differences!

"It's just that…I ran away from home today. Came here, tried to find a place to stay. Oh god, it hurts to be this way. In my life of darkness you are the only ray!" Draco chanted, his brown eyes, changing because the author didn't remember what eye-color she'd used before, looking straight into Hermione's chocolate ones.

"That's so sweet," she exclaimed, reaching over to hug him. 

"Shall we snog?"

"But of course. No, wait, wait, I want it but the story's got to be longer. Everyone knows that this is all about sex anyway. What else could we possibly want from each other?" said Hermione, Mighty-Brain kicking in.

"Uhh, love?"

"No, you bimbo. Love is just a pretense they put up so they can write porn! We've all got to get off somehow, no?"

"True. Especially the thirteen-year-olds with graphic sex scenes. The errors are kind of funny."

"Mmmhmm. I love the fact they get their sex knowledge from other authors."

"Yep."

"Okay, I'm ready to snog. How long was that?"

"Three minutes."

"All right, you lie down on my bed and pretend you're strategically placed there so that you're just so tempting. And I'll stand her and lick my lips and you've got to whisper something or groan or whatever that gives me the idea that you want it to."

"That sounds more like animalistic lust than love."

"Whatever that gets us to the snogging!" Hermione huffed. She walked over to her mirror and slicked on the stuff, licking her lips. The stuff went by the liter down her throat and she began to choke. Spurting out the silver red substance, she threw up all over her mirror and sighed. "All right that postpones sex by about four minutes. Hold it." She raced down to her bathroom and rinsed her mouth out. She pulled out her second favorite make-up item, because she had so much and she'd always worn the stuff. The second one was deep pink, called The Punk Poser's Pink Gloss For Preppiness While Acting Punk.

"Okay, I'm ready!" She said seductively and walked over to Draco.

[Graphic sex scene, which was totally not needed for the plot]

Suddenly out of nowhere, Pansy Parkinson appeared.

"OH MY GOD, YOU WENCH! GET YOUR FILTHY MUD BLOOD HANDS OFF MY BOYFRIEND!" She was shaking with rage and her nails were ruined because they were still wet when she went absolutely insane.

"I hate you Pansy you're a bee-yatch," Draco said, obviously reluctant to use the B-word after there had just been an explicit, steamy little scene above.

"What. No you don't you love me because I never hear when you say you hate me anyway. I have no brains, you dummy don't even bother telling me that. Now, where was I?" She pulled out a little notebook and put a nice, big check next to "Yelling". Next on the list was "Tantrum". Obediently, she got down on the floor and screamed and kicked and nearly scratched her eyes out. This accomplished absolutely nothing but Pansy could put a lovely check next to the next item on the list. "Okay, guys," She said. "I'm all done here so I'm just going to leave now because my presence is no longer required in the story." 

Draco suddenly remembered, or rather, the author suddenly remembered that Draco was supposed to be depressed. "Hermione," he said quietly. "I love you (my arse! But I do love your bum) but I can't do this." He picked up a wand, which had Apparated itself out of Hermione's closet for the author's unforeseen needs, and bellowed at the top of his depressed little lungs, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Hermione screamed, trying to jump in front of the curse. The spell hit the mirror instead and bounced off, instead hitting the window pane and…Voldemort? Yes, the author had decided to bring him in to give the story some real plot. So, the spell issued by Draco bounced off the mirror and hit Voldemort. No wonder Draco was used as Seeker. His aim sucks! Anyway, now that Voldemort was dead--and Harry hadn't done it, so the author could say that her story was different!--everything was peachy keen in the wizarding world and Draco and Hermione could live happily ever after.

*******

Three hundred miles away, Lucius Malfoy was playing a round of poker with his buds MacNair, Crabbe, and Goyle, when he suddenly dropped dead to the floor. The author had forgotten he didn't like Mudbloods.

******

Important Author's Note: I wasn't trying to offend anyone. Okay? I just wanted to give my tribute, shall we say, to those lovely, lovely authors who pass these off as actual stories. 

Oh, Disclaimer: Don't own 'em but I sure did get to change their personalities.


	2. So Ghettofabulous

The Big Cliché 

Subtitled: So Ghettofabulous

****

A/N: Bear in mind this has nothing to do with "Punk Rock Depression". This is a separate cliché, but remember, I twist my clichés- thus the ghetto attitudes. I am in no way discriminating against people who are ghetto. I'm just making fun of authors who use overused Draco/Hermione plots- but I'm not trying to be offensive. And to really make this chapter work, you have to imagine it in your head. I mean, who sees our Harry Potter sporting bling bling?!

****

Summary: The Hogwarts crew have gone Ghettofabulous, including our two exploited characters Draco and Hermione. Uh-oh, homeslice, uh-oh. 

****

Disclaimer: If I owned it I would so not make fun of my own work, okay?

So Ghettofabulous

Draco Malfoy walked over to his homies, V-Crabbe and G-Fish, flicking his head up and letting his sexy sexy blonde hair flutter gently in the wind. "Sup, homeslices?" he asked as the three of them boarded the train to their boarding school, Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy, more commonly known as Da Galleon, had gotten incredibly hott (and the author had to put in the double ts because who the hell spells 'hot' with only _one_ T?) and sexxy (same reasoning!) and he had an eight-pack and he had really really nice legs and oh, my, gosh, his hair was totally the best thing that anybody had ever seen (the author was drooling by this point and wanted to get her reaction across to her readers). 

Draco was wearing a pair of fly ass (um, guys, the author wonders, should I put arse because we're in Britain? But 'ass' is just so…more…perfect right here!) low cut baggy jeans that stopped low enough for everyone to see his boxers which were decorated with Snitches. So girls could _grab on_, you know. Because he had a package. A good one, I mean. Whatever it means. I'm too young to really know. He was also wearing a white wife-beater that showed off his rippling, man-oh-man sexy muscles and he was bling bling to the core. He had so much platinum on he could barely walk.

V-Crabbe and G-fish wore their caps low so that nobody could see their eyes as they watched over Da Galleon, their homedawg. Suddenly the three of them came across the second set of coolest homies that Hogwarts had ever seen.

The G-Squad (the author thought that this worked perfectly because of all the fics that had Golden Trio, and so she just shortened it and made it the G-Squad so it could be ultrafly).

"Yo, homie," G-fish nudged Da Galleon. "Check out da bitch." Draco, our beautiful thug, checked out the bitch, otherwise known as the center of the G-Squad, the girl who could pop her pussy like the babes from Get Low (the author just _loved_ that song, so she had to throw it in, come on guys and gals, hands up, who wants to get low?), the sexy-ass gurrl who had it goin' on more than any other girl in the entire school, Her-my-own-knee Granger, otherwise known as BB Mya. (Beauty, Brains, and the shortening of her name. Is that okay with you readers?).

"Yo, yo, G-squad," Da Galleon called, raking BB Mya with his eyes. "Yo, man, whassaa?"

Harry "H-P" Potter gave him the finger. "Da Galleon, you know we don't fly like dat!" His backup, tall, gangly, and loaded with the bling and the ring and the yo-mama-cry-with-her-orgasm fling thing, Badd Redd (Ron Weasley, he was born, but nobody called him that! That's so, like, yesterday), snorted. Badd Redd was a badass boy who sang durrty. "Da Galleon, you ain't even know whatchu talkin 'bout, you ain't a pimp, Ima badass pimp and Ima kill you!"

Da Galleon muttered under his breath. "Yo yo you think you can fool us boy?" piped up BB Mya, although secretly she thought that Da Galleon was the hottest thing since bread, "Boy, you a foo', man, you foo'!"

Motioning to her boyz (okay, the Z is so cool, the author thought as she typed furiously, making disgusting spelling mistakes and not wanting to go back and change them. Anyone who protests is a fuckin' flamer and I don't give a…whatever. It's like Zorro!) the three of them traipsed onto the train. From behind Da Galleon checked out BB Mya's tightass short, short skirt and her teensy tiny tube top that showed off somadat bronzed skin that he could just feel, man, he could _just feel it_…

"G-fish, you feelin' da heat?" he asked his homie. G-fish shook his head.

"Naw man but I see what you talkin' about, that BB Mya's one hotass chick, she got them tits, yo, I wish I was a pimp, yo so I could play her like a playa, man!"

V-Crabbe nodded. "Damn straight."

Da Galleon shot an evil look at the back of H-P and Badd Redd's head. "Yo, foo, I bet they got her tighter than her ass, yo!"

Suddenly Pansy Parkinson flounced up to them. "Uh-oh, boys, I see summin nasty, yo!" Da Galleon said and the boys laughed loudly. 

"Man, Da Galleon, you just getting hotta every year, yo! Whatcha happen to you!" Pansy said. Pansy wasn't cool enough to get a ghettofabulous nickname, because the author knew she was _always_ the problem between Draco and Hermione and thus she was a total beeyatch!

"Move, bitch, get out da way," V-Grabbe chided. Suddenly the G-Squad was back.

Even though H-P didn't like Da Galleon, them ghetto kids stuck together in moments of dire need. "Yo, dis ho fuckin' wit you, man?" H-P asked, moving his fingers just the way the rappers do back in the muggle world.

Da Galleon considered it. He could let H-P, Badd Redd, and that hot bitch BB Mya take care of tha bitch Pansy fo him but it could mean serious consequences later. Like, maybe, payback. 

And then Da Galleon had a brilliant beyond brilliant beyond brilliant beyond brilliant idea. "Yo, man, fo real?" he asked first, just to make sure H-P and his crew weren't joking or anything. Oh, the horror if that was true.

"Damn straight," H-P replied seriously.

"Yo wanna piece o' her ass, yo?" Da Galleon asked, smirking, since the author knew that no matter _what_ fic he was in, serious or funny or just plain silly, he smirked like a freakin' mofo. 

"Fo real?" H-P asked. Everyone knew that Pansy Parkinson was the biggest slut ever. She wore the tightest, sluttiest clothing and her walk just screamed WHORE WHORE WHORE! to everyone, and every single guy who hadn't given her a go was always hoping to.

Badd Redd piped up. "Yo, does she pop dat thang like a real ho or is she jus a fakeass pimp lovin slut, yo?"

Da Galleon considered. Pansy was good, for the first couple of times. In fact she was absolutely amazing in the sack, that tigress, that mm-mm-good-like-a-Campbells-soup-even-though-wizards-probably-don't-eat-that-but-hell-it's-cool-still-she's-not-as-hott-as-BB-Mya-who-is-just-impossibly-sexy-with-STRAIGHT-hair-and-tight-clothes-and-lots-of-ho-make-up. "Ya, man, fo real, she a real ho, she do her thang real good!"

H-P had made up his mind. "We take her off yo hands, man, we do her real good and we send her back to yo when she too tired to do any o dat stuff."

Da Galleon nodded happily. "But I got to have a lil summin summin first."

Da Galleon was conniving, clever, cunning, and mean-spirited. See, the author reasoned, he was perfectly in character! What the hell were people on about when they muttered than insufferable stupid three-letter abbreviation OOC?

H-P and Badd Redd eyed each other suspiciously. They didn't trust Da Galleon one little bit, even though they had offered to help him earlier. Whatever, the author argued as the pointless insults were thrown at her by readers, H-P and Badd Redd are cool so there. "Whatchu thinkin of?" they asked slowly.

"BB Mya," Da Galleon said, smirking (again). And smirking. And smirking. And smirking.

"BB MYA?!" gasped H-P and Badd Redd (whose ghetto name totally sucked butt because the author didn't think he was as good looking as the actors who played them in the movie and all that rot). 

"Thas right, boys, Ima need summa dat BB Mya ass if you want yo ho."

PAUSE!

Wait, the author thought. Pause. What about that whole mud blood thing and the whole Draco, Harry, and Ron did not make deals involving close friends and possible harm to them and they didn't barter their girls and the whole bit about them actually being wizards which so far had barely been mentioned in the story, which, let me point out, was still on the train, for goodness sake (or, the author thought, wanting to correct her mistake, for _Merlin_'_s_ sake)? What about all that?

Hmm…the author thought. I know, she came up with, I will throw that stuff out the window and declare my story AU. Done!

Back to the fic.

H-P and Badd Redd considered it. "Yo dawg," they finally told Da Galleon who was eying summadat ass that BB Mya was currently flaunting. She was wearing a sleek black thong that screamed sex and Da Galleon was feelin' sum heat. "Yo dawg, you can hav da ho but only fo today, yo, after that we give you back your Pansy and you give us back BB Mya."

"Deal, muh enemies," Da Galleon said, pulling out his wand and performing a Deal-spell, which happily incorporated magic back into the picture.

Whatever, yo, let's get back to ghettoville.

The spell soon had BB Mya hurtling towards Da Galleon and H-P and Badd Redd walked off with Pansy. "What happenin?" BB Mya asked, looking worried.

"It's okay, bitch, you wit me now and everythin gonna be sexy cool."

Then Da Galleon proceeded to whip out his microphone, which he conveniently stored in his robes, and began a lil summin summin to portray his mood to BB Mya.

"3,6,9 standing real fine move it to you sing it to me one mo time

Get low, Get low, Get low, Get low, Get low, Get low

To the window, to the wall, (to dat wall)

To the sweat drip down my balls (MY BALLS)

To all these bitches crawl (crawl)

To all skit skit motherfucker (motherfucker!) all skit skit got dam (Got dam)

To all skit skit motherfucker (motherfucker!) all skit skit got dam (Got dam)" 

Da Galleon sang, motioning to his homies V-Crabbe and G-fish who got up and began singing wit him. 

"Yo, all da bitches out thurr," V-Crabbe said, conjuring himself and G-fish a mike. They all began to sing, entertaining the train and all the hos were getting a bit feisty. 

"Shortie crunk so fresh so clean can she fuck that 

Question been harassing me in the mind this bitch is fine 

I done came to the club about 50th 11 times now can I play with yo pantyline 

club owner said I need to calm down security guard go to sweating 

Me now drunk then a motherfucker threaten me now," sang V-Crabbe, looking pointedly at Millicent Bulstrode, his secret fancy. 

Da Galleon picked up the next verse, singing directly to BB Mya who was shakin dat ass like you never seen before. "She getting crunk in the club I mine she work

Then I like to see the female twerking taking the clothes off BUCKEY naked

ATL. Ho don't disrespect it

Pa pop yo pussy like this cause yin yang twins in this bitch

Da Galleon and his homeboys wit me and we all like to see Ass and titties

Now bring yo ass over here hoe and let me see you get low if you want this Thug

Now take it to the floor (to the floor) and if yo ass wanta act you can keep yo ass where you at." (the author loved this song so she put it in to make sure everyone would enjoy it and sway to the mood even though most people were not listening to the dirty song while reading a silly fanfic!). BB Mya listened like anything. She moved deliberately over to Da Galleon and the whole train oohed and ahhed at the entertainment. Gone were the times of squabbles between Da Galleon and BB Mya! They were sex machines set on high, man! 

Da Galleon and his homeboys continued throughout the rest of the song, which ended in bright strobe lights and pole dancing by Hannah Abbott, Mandy Brocklehurst, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Cho Chang (what? She graduated? Oh well. Not in this fic she isn't. She's stupid), and Millicent Bulstrode. Pansy, H-P, and Badd Redd were nowhere to be found. 

"Uh, come here, bitch," Da Galleon called out to BB Mya who walked sexily to him. Before they knew it the two of them were kissing like there was no tomorrow and tearing each other's clothes off. Da Galleon found an empty closet and the two of them were in there for two hours! It didn't matter that Hogwarts should have come by now, the train was just being exceptionally slow. "Baby," Da Galleon said after a love-makin' session. 

"I wantcha ta know I always be right thurr for ya," 

"Oh, Da Galleon! Yo, baby, you got some sexy thangs goin on for ya…I got you on the down low, foo'!" And so, the romance was sealed. And all was well. And H-P and Badd Redd and Pansy had certainly hit it off, and the G-Squad exchanged one member for another…while Da Galleon and his homeslices gained a personal bitch. 

A/N: My 'tribute' to the oh-so-popular songfic category. Of course mine is a little bit twisted but it's all good, right? Lol, anyone notice my subtle (or not so subtle, I dunno) references to pop culture? Anyway, I need more ideas, more clichés to make fun of, so, please review and give me ideas, and tell me what you thought of this one-shot! 


	3. AIM, Love, and Instant Matchmaking

Merlin, Not Another Cliché!

**Subtitled**: AIM, Love, and Instant Matchmaking

**Summary**: A tribute to the infamous wonders of AOL Instant Messenger and the world of AIM boyfriends and girlfriends. But when the main characters and Draco and Hermione, anything can happen.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the JK stuff and I don't own AIM, but I wish I owned Draco. [note: this disclaimer has been ripped off of the two hundred and sixty authors who have this as standard disclaimer]

**Author's Note**: Not meant to offend! Just poking fun at AOL, screen names, clichés, and all that other jazz.

AIM, Love, and Instant Matchmaking

Draco Malfoy was excited. Scratch that, he was nearly stark raving mad with happiness when he got home from school. Sixth year was over and he could relax and have an amazing time until seventh year started up. 

Boy, did he have plans for the summer, or did he have plans. He planned on getting laid three times a day, courtesy of his neighbors (both who amazingly housed teenage girls. How this miracle came to be is quite inexplicable, the author assures you). He had dumped Crabbe and Goyle, oh the Losers (yeah, it's a capital L. DUH! Like who totally does not know that?, the author wondered as she painfully exposed her thirteen-year-old-ness to the rest of the world). He was now best friends forever (BFF, for those of you that don't speak preteen) with Brady-Aidan-Deveron Snake (the author strung all of her favorite not so common names together to create a really sexy name!), an OC that the author had invented and given an extremely original name, and she did mean extraordinarily original, and his other best friend was Sally Anne Perks. See, the author claimed, I did some research. Sally Anne Perks really does exist in the books, she does!

Brady-Aidan-Deveron Snake came over to Draco's mansion in the summer and with him he brought a funky looking thing.it was a computer! Yes, an interesting little lap top with an apple painted on top of it. Draco wondered why the apple was blue, but he did not question, because Brady-Aidan-Deveron was a really sexy genius; in fact, he was sexier, yeah, got that, sexier than Draco.

Brady-Aidan-Deveron gave Draco a smile that revealed the most perfect and straight teeth that you ever did see, and said, "Draco, this is a computer. It is a Muggle contraption that I happen to know of even though I am 100% pure blood and perfect, but honestly, you'd expect me to know because I know everything."

Draco nodded. "Of course, Brady-Aidan-Deveron. Teach me. _computer_," Draco whispered as he revered the instrument.

Brady-Aidan-Deveron began speaking in computer and Draco, being smart himself, second only to the Princess of Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, understood completely. He opened up the laptop, as he had learnt was its name, and clicked on a link that had a little orange person that looked like it was running.

"What is this?" Draco asked Brady-Aidan-Deveron.

"That is AOL Instant Messenger, only the best creation of the twentieth century," Brady-Aidan-Deveron answered.

Draco clicked upon the link and it asked him for his User Name and Password. "What is this?" Draco asked Brady-Aidan-Deveron.

"You can't do that until you make yourself a user name. Let's go onto the Net."

Draco briefly wondered if the Net had anything to do with Quidditch but he soon learnt that he was rather off. The Net turned out to be short for Internet, a very ingenious muggle device. "Let's go Googling!" Draco said excitedly when he saw the bright colors flash upon the scene.

Brady-Aidan-Deveron smiled handsomely but the smile was a little bit condescending. "Now Draco," he said, as if he were explaining to a child, "you want to get an AIM account, don't you?"

Draco nodded, his beautiful brows furrowed in concentration. "Yes. Let's go to the web site."

So the two of them went to the web site, and Draco thought of a user name. He thought, and he thought, and he thought, and he thought.

Finally he came up with a stroke of pure genius, where his brilliant and magnificent mind broke though the dusty barriers.introducing dragonpoo69. 

His password was of course, sexymalfoy. Nobody in the whole world could figure that out, because it was so unlike his real personality. No, in reality, Draco was humble and good, kind and wonderful, any evil represented in canon shredded into the background. The author wanted a _hero_, people, a mole-less Enrique Iglesias, not some badass freak! 

Brady-Aidan-Deveron faded into the shadows as Draco became engrossed in the world of AIM. He wasn't needed right now and the author wanted you to forget about him so when he appeared later an element of surprise would ignite the body of her readers. She did hope she had some. It would really be a drag to write for no one, of course. Reviews were her food, and she wanted to eat.

Draco clicked on a chat room called "Smart Witches and Wizards". There were two other people in the room besides him. One was scarwonder234 and the other was hgwrtslvr96.

Draco decided to try out IM on scarwonder234. The conversation went as follows, guys, the author said to herself, so be careful. And of course, she thought I'm going to use tons of netspeak because even though Draco has just been introduced to AIM he's more than definitely going to know what LOL is or what BRB is. DUH!

Dragonpoo69: Hey

Scarwonder234: who is this?

Dragonpoo69: who is this?

Scarwonder234: don't copy me I asked first

Dragonpoo69: don't copy me I asked first

Scarwonder234: this is harry f****** potter now tell me who the fuck you are

Draco was surprised. He was talking to Harry! Dude he was going to have some fun!

Dragonpoo69: what are you talking about? I'm Harry Potter! How dare you claim you are!

Scarwonder234: the hell? 

Dragonpoo69: you idiot orphan boy, oops, I mean, whoever you are, I'm the one with an ugly scar and no parents and I hang out with the weasleys and I like red hair, ok?

Scarwonder234: you're scaring me. 

Dragonpoo69: damn straight!

Draco soon tired of speaking to Harry and decided to IM the other person, hgwrtslvr96.

Dragonpoo69: hey baby

Hgwrtslvr96: excuse me?

Dragonpoo69: who's this?

Hgwrtslvr96: this is none of your beeswack! Get lost before I pepper spray you!

Dragonpoo69: you can't! you can't! I'm on the intamanet!

Hgwrtslvr96: it's Internet.

Dragonpoo69: why thank you!

Draco was really beginning to like hgwrtslvr96. She was really helpful, and she was sarcastic. Maybe a little paranoid but you can't have everything you ask for, can you? How Draco knew that it was a girl was once again one of life's little mysteries.

Many conversations later, which the author was too lazy to type, Draco finally decided to ask who this hgwrtslvr96 was. Why it hadn't occurred to him earlier? Life's Little Mysteries, people!

Dragonpoo69: so, who is this really? I really like you! You are so fun to talk to.

Hgwrtslvr96: I luv talking to you too! This is Hermione Granger, ok? Who are you?

Draco was shocked. Who would have known that the book worm. what. it was not possible! 

Suddenly Brady-Aidan-Deveron. B-A-D (and NOW you know his true personality, the author thought, yeah baby, double whammy!) stepped back into the picture.

"Muahahahah!" he laughed. "It was all a ploy to set you up with that mud blood! I am an evil genius! Wheeeeee!"

Draco was shocked but nonetheless he knew what to do. "Don't you dare call her that!" he screamed. "She's kind and caring! I _love_ her!"

B-A-D screamed at the mention of the word and immediately began melting. "I'm melting, I'm melting!" he cried helplessly as his body oozed into a pile of liquid onto Draco's marble floor.

But Draco didn't care. With B-A-D taken care of, he apparated to Hermione's house. Hermione was on the computer and she looked like she was impatiently waiting for dragonpoo69 to reply.

"Waiting for something?" Draco asked. Hermione turned around, surprised, but why she didn't attack, or how Draco got in without her parents noticing, or how he did some underage magic and got away with it.you know the answer by now. It's LLM!

"Um, yeah," Hermione replied nervously. "What're you doing in my house?"

Draco looked at the floor shiftily. "Well, um, I'm dragonpoo69."

"You are?" she said, really surprised.

He nodded. "Erm.yeah. I hope that's okay."

She nodded. "It is. Oh, come here, you!"

He walked up to her only to be engulfed in a loving hug. With B-A-D taken care of and the Internet set up in his house and a lovely girlfriend he met through the Net, Draco knew life was assured. Who knew how it came to be? It was all under life's little mysteries.

A/N: Well.this was basically the Gary-Stu chapter, but with Gary-Stu-gone-bad, I guess. Thanks for your input on clichés, I'm working on the pureblood cliché now! Reviews please, and also, more cliché ideas! They're awesome! 


	4. Princes and Purebloods

Merlin, Not Another Cliché!

Princes and Purebloods

Summary: Hermione finds out she's a—surprise!—pure blood! Where does she end up with such interesting news? The twist in this one is a touch of cannibalism! That's always fun.

Hermione felt miserable. All she wanted was to be a pureblood. The wizarding world hated her because she couldn't ever be one. But wait, the author slowly tapped into the other 90% of her brain that humans generally didn't use… she had a very good idea…

One day before school started, Hermione's mom and dad pulled her aside and said, "Look, darling, we need to have a chat."

"Over biscuits and tea?" Hermione asked. Although she was watching her figure, she never could resist tea biscuits or éclairs.

Hermione's mother looked over at her husband, who shrugged. "Yeah, whatever, you little shit."

The author had just remembered that Hermione's dad abused her. The father, who up until then had had a genteel smile on his face and kind eyes, suddenly grew devil horns and a permanent snarl. "You're adopted, bitch."

Hermione gasped, and so did her mother. "Oh, Frank!" her mom sobbed. "Please, don't tell her; don't tell her… she's too young, she can't know yet…"

"Too late, cunt," the father snarled to the mother. "Hey Hermione, your mom couldn't have kids so we picked you up from the dollar store."

Hermione burst into tears and began to rock back and forth. "D-d-d-addy," she cried. "Why are you so mean to me?"

The author had silent tears rolling down her face as she wrote her incredibly touching and poignant piece of work. The dad was a heartless old man, the mother a poor, abused, unwilling to disobey her husband type of sissy, and Hermione _just wanted to be free_. That was all that the adorable girl desired.

Hermione suddenly came to an important realization. "You know what?" she yelled at her parents, ignoring her mother's heart-wrenching sobs and her dad's angry snarl (the author just couldn't find a synonym for the word). "I don't have to take your shit anymore! I can leave! In fact I will leave!"

She stomped towards the door in pure unadulterated anger and unhappiness. Just as she took one step out the door, she heard a frail voice behind her.

"Wait," her mother croaked. "Just one more thing, babe."

Hermione whirled around faster than you could say "dizzy" and stared at her mother. "What is it?" she growled impatiently. "You know I'm supposed to be at Draco's house for the story plot in like three minutes. Gosh. Way to delay the story. You're a horrible character," she bitched.

"Oh my gosh," her mother snapped back. "Stop acting like such a teenager. Grow up, won't you? Cor, you're the one who has morals, right? Anyhow, you're a pureblood. Happy? I got MY line over with, let's see how you do yours!"

Hermione gasped dramatically. "A pureblood?" She had NOT seen this coming. Neither had the author's readers. Hermione, a pureblood? It was absolutely scandalous?

"Yeah, you lil bitch, a pureblood," the dad spoke up. "How dense _are_ you?"

"Who are my parents?" Hermione asked softly.

Her mother inhaled shakily. "Prince Abergigolo of Abergigali… and his beautiful wife Summer Candy."

Hermione gasped again. "OMG! You are SO kidding! Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she giggled. 

"No!" her mother broke out in a grin. "Oh my gosh, you're a princess!"

"Christ, I'm definitely late for the Malfoys," Hermione said, checking her watch. "Catch up with you later, and you too, Dad."

"Later, shit," he called back cheerily. The author was ignoring any forms of characterization right now. They just weren't important.

Hermione stepped outside in wonder and shock, tears drenching her creamy pale complexion, with her cute-as-a-button nose, shiny straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and pink lips. Cherry cheerleader personified, complete with a nice rack and a big butt, albeit small stomach and shapely legs!

Suddenly she closed her eyes and wished she was somewhere where she would be appreciated. When she opened her eyes she was awesomely surprised to find herself standing in front of a large manor, with beautiful gardens, and a high gate. The Malfoy manor! The author expected all of her readers to be dutifully surprised, although this key fact had actually been revealed earlier, in most subtle of ways.

"Oh look who's in front of my house," someone drawled from behind her. "If it isn't the mudblood."

Hermione spun around and came face to face with a Greek god; his skin was like alabaster, smooth, pale, beautiful. His eyes were stormy grey and he had silver-white-blonde hair that wasn't gelled back; it was shaggy and gorgeous. Swoon, all of you girls, please, the author thought as she giggled and wrote the passage. Mmm, I want to shag that piece of…oh, oh, oh…

Hermione looked him over appreciatively. "You look fantastic," she gushed. "Anyway, I'm not a mud blood. Don't you keep up with the news? Pure blood now."

"You're kidding," he gasped.

"No way. My 'rents were definitely Prince Abergigolo and his wife Summer Candy."

"Really?" Draco asked, surprised. "My 'rents are having them for dinner tomorrow."

"Really? Oh, my, gosh, I get to meet my old 'rents?! Will you let me stay here?"

Draco shrugged. "Ya you can, but you can't meet your 'rents because mine are having them for dinner. Literally. Abergigalis are supposed to be really yummy."

Hermione shrugged. "Eh, it's what they get for abandoning me."

"Damn straight," he replied with a grin. "So wanna meet my mommy and daddy?"

"Eat or meet?" grinned Hermione, and they both started to laugh.

The romance had begun.

A/N: Yeah, another cliché down, many left to do! Once again, please review and tell me some more clichés you would like addressed. Keep in mind I am already planning to do the Head Boy/Head Girl. Any others, please tell me. Thanks again! 


	5. From Draco's Wounded Heart

Merlin, Not Another Cliché!

**From Draco's Wounded Heart**

Summary: Draco is the totally redeemed, snarky Head Boy and Hermione a studious Head Girl. And is it just me or is Dumbledore trying to put these two together?!

Draco stepped off the Hogwarts express, a gleam in his eye and a smirk on his face. "Behold, everyone! I'm the Head Boy of Hogwarts!"

Around him everyone started laughing, because his voice had cracked midway through. He tried again. "Behold, everyone! I am the all mighty Head Boy of Hogwarts!"

There. Much better. Just to make up for earlier mishap, he terrorized a first year and two second years on his way to the carriages. He was just so excited to find out who the Head Girl was. It had been bothering him all day. He really kind of hoped it was Granger because he had a secret crush on her since he'd been at Hogwarts. No, scratch that, since the day he was born!

Never mind, the author huffed, that he didn't seem all that appreciative of her in the books. In this story, she would tenderly pull out Draco Malfoy's sensitive, wonderful side, and, she decided, he would be GOOD! How could he be evil?! Evil was _so_ last year, anyway.

Quickly forgetting the fact that Draco had terrorized three people on his way to the carriages, the author dropped him into carriage number one, handed him parchment and a quill, and instructed him to write "beautiful, beautiful poetry from the depths of your wounded heart."

And so he did.

Hermione Granger, on the other hand, was unceremoniously shoved into carriage number one where she gasped on cue, "Please tell me, Malfoy, that that badge you are wearing means that you are head—I mean, means that you are NOT head boy! You foul…tiger, you!"

Draco gave her a soft, sweet smile. "But when my eyes rest upon the beauty that is you, I melt until only my eyes are left and I am just a pile of seeing flesh on the floor destroyed by your extravagance."

Hermione's hard, cold heart had already begun to melt but she pulled it together. "Stuff it, Malfoy," she begged. "You are the most despicable little buffoon ever."

"Please," Draco batted his eyelashes and flicked his beautiful blonde hair, "call me Draco."

Just at that moment said Head Boy and Head Girl reached Hogwarts. The author decided that instead of those two having to make the long journey up to Dumbledore and such, just to skip the sorting, the meal, the meeting of old friends, Hagrid, McGonagall, and anything else you might encounter at Hogwarts besides of course, true love.

Dumbledore himself came out to greet them. "Draco, Hermione!" he grinned.

They grinned back. "Sup, Prof D?" Draco sent the peace sign.

"Marvelous to see you," Hermione sang.

"K, so here's the deal," Dumbledore began, his eyes ever twinkling. "Look, the head girl rooms have burnt down and the head boy rooms have burnt down so I have to shove you two in a small closet with just enough space for one bed. And you can use the prefect's bathroom. I'll give you guys a slot of 7:30 in the morning and 10:00 at night, okay?"

"But Professor," Hermine's lower lip trembled, "I can't possibly spend that much time with this devil of a boy! Surely…we could sleep in an empty classroom…or I could sleep in the Gryffindor dormitories and he could sleep in Slytherin's…"

"Eh, you could, but don't you want to…hint hint, get it on?"

Draco nodded. "Come on, Hermione. It'll be fun!"

"See, there you go," Dumbledore smiled. "K, gotta go. Ministry biz, you know the drill."

"Laters!" Hermione and Draco called.

"So," Draco turned to Hermione as Dumbledore left. "I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"Well…I've gotten to know you since the beginning of the school year and stuff, having to share this itsy bitsy room and bathroom slots—heh, we've had some real fun—and…"

"Hold, on, Draco, I have to forward time!" Hermione rolled her eyes. With a quick swish and flick of her wand it was successfully only two days left until they graduated from Hogwarts.

Man, seventh year sure had gone fast.

The author giggled. She was just getting to the very best part of them all—when Draco confessed his undying love…and tension, tension, would Hermione accept it?!

"Okay, go," Hermione directed. "Come on I don't have all day."

Wow, she was mean.

Draco began again. "Look, so I know you and all now…and the thing is, Hermione, you've made me…want to be good! Just like you!"

Didn't matter that now he'd turned into some sodding sappy nancy boy who probably liked it up the rear; he was GOOD now! GOOD!

Oh, my gosh, Draco would be the next Dumbledore type character! He was benign and kind and gracious and gorgeous and he wrote beautiful, beautiful poetry from the depths of his wounded heart.

A perfect package.

Hermione gasped at Draco's unpredictable revelation. "NO!" she moaned. "You're Lucius's son! I…I won't believe this, Draco. You're lying."

"Lying?!" Draco gasped. "NEVER! I could never lie to you Hermione, you mean everything to me! In fact—

I'll be your dream  
I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy  
I'll be your hope I'll be your love  
Be everything that you need  
I'll love you more with every breath  
Truly madly deeply do."

He sang with all his might, hoping the romantic lyrics would sway Hermione into believing him.

"Oh, Draco!" Hermione gasped, and that one word was repeated for the fiftieth time in the author's story, "I believe you, I really do!"

They kissed. It was terribly romantic and wonderful.

They graduated. It was terribly sad and wonderful.

They got married.

And then Voldemort came back into play.

"Heh, heh, heh," Draco laughed evilly. "I was just kidding! I really am evil! And do you know why?!"

"WHY?" gasped (again) the surprised people of wherever the hell Draco was.

"Because it's in again!"

A/N: Yes. I know it's silly, but Draco-quickly-redeemed fics sometimes do annoy me. Okay, let's see…stuff to address. Number one, those lyrics belong to Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden (a song I was once very, very fond of). Number two, thank you all for such fun reviews! Yay! Tell me some more clichés!

To that one reviewer, Riiight, hey, guess what…this is supposed to have stereotypes. It is supposed to be full of clichés. And lastly, it is supposed to be annoyingly stupid. So thanks.

And to RedHotChiliPepper12—okay, this is going to make you retch, but…I honestly didn't know the Smashing Pumpkins were a real band. I swear. I'm sure they're not really posers; hey, I listen to top 40 music and they're not on there, so obviously not posers…sorry!

Anyway, please review this! It's my silly fun of the day, and, plus I want more clichés. Hehe. Believe me, plenty more exist.


	6. We Hate You, Hermione

Merlin, Not Another Cliché!

**We Hate You, Hermione**

Summary: Harry and Ron are way too cool for Hermione Loser Granger. So they dump her. But what happens when she finds comfort in a totally expected (excuse me, totally UNexpected) source?

Disclaimer (hee hee): The summary above is not mine. I have stolen it off 2,284 Draco/Hermione fics in which poor Hermione is dumped cruelly by Harry and Ron.

**Warning**: this story has been moved to **R-rated**. The language in "So Ghettofabulous!" is bad. This chapter contains somewhat-cliché smut. Hermione's boobs have a starring role.

Hermione entered her common room. It was mid-sixth-year and she had had a good year so far. She was studying hard as usual and had brilliant grades. She had killed the squid in the lake for fun once and that was the worst thing she ever did do.

Well she entered the common room and her best friends forever Harry and Ron were playing chess. "Hello, boys," she said. Over the years Hermione had become very va-va-va-voom-vroom-vroom-I-can-get-it-on-with-a-broom! Her bust size had grown so huge that she'd even named them—Hogwarts and A, History.

"Harry, Ron!" she called excitedly.

Harry and Ron sent each other dubious looks at the same time. "Ah, Hermione," Harry began, looking ever-so-unintelligent. So they were going to dump Hermione, the author thought furiously, they better be as dumb as Crabbe and Goyle even though Harry was supposedly good at DADA according to canon. Well, screw canon, the author sighed. It sucks.

"What is it, boys?" Hermione asked worriedly. They looked…kind of mean!

"It's just that…" Ron sighed, and then a fiery horrible gleam came into his brown eyes. It was the color of FIRE. Yes. FIRE. That means it's yellow, the author grinned. Ha ha ha! Ron had yellow eyes! That's so like, weird. "We hate you, Hermione," Ron said finally.

Hermione could not believe her ears. "Wait, what?"

"Yes," Harry added quickly, "look. You're a bookworm. You like, have sex with books. You are not a piece of arse. So we don't need you."

"Harry's right, you know," Ron said in a thick Irish accent, "You are of no use to us. You just like to study, you're boring, and we're not physically attracted to you—except for your boobs—but you're so damned prudish it doesn't even matter. So get out."

Hermione gasped and tears began to flow down her cheeks. The author painted a beautiful tender picture where Harry and Ron were nasty ogres and Hermione was just an innocent little girl.

"B-b-boys," she cried, "what about all those years we've had together?"

"We didn't have hormones then, duh!" came their response. "OUT!"

And so she left, her head up high. She would never speak to those unmentionable little hormone-crazed losers again! AND WHAT DID THEY MEAN SHE WAS NOT A PIECE OF ARSE!!

SHE WAS TOO! She'd so show them! She'd totally become a piece of ass (the author forgot to use Brit lingo, but it didn't matter anyway.). In fact, she decided she'd make it a point to sleep with the next boy she saw.

Or the next girl.

Or the next animal.

Or even the next doorknob (she'd heard about some twisted things with those).

Just then Draco Malfoy sauntered down the hall. Hermione froze. She wondered if she should go back on her vow, but then hard determination won and Hermione walked up to him. "I want," she sighed, "to be bad."

He nearly doubled over. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me right. Do you think I am sexy?"

At this point, Draco was so scared he would've told Snape he looked sexy. "Gorgeous," he licked his lips. "Wanna come to my room, muddy?"

Hermione grinned. See? She was so a piece of ass! "Totally."

She followed the beautiful boy up to his room and he promptly disrobed. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. The man in front of her was like a Greek God, an Adonis, with skin the color of alabaster and it was just flawless.

"Like what you see?" He smirked.

"Yes," Hermione nodded emphatically, and promptly disrobed as well.

It was Draco's turn to stare. Who knew what kind of body Granger had been hiding under her robes? It was magnificent. She was voluptuous and curvy and everything Pansy wasn't. Don't ask why Pansy came in. It's just a must to have Pansy in every Dramione, okay? And she's always the girl Draco sleeps with. Duh.

"Are you a virgin?" Draco asked, hoping the answer was yes.

Hermione nodded. "Don't hurt me."

The words drove Draco out of his mind. Slowly he began to kiss Hermione, slow, sensual kisses that made her toenails tingle, they were THAT deep.

"Be careful with Hogwarts, A History," Hermione warned.

Draco was utterly and completely confused, but didn't say anything. If Hermione liked to fantasize about books when she did the deed, then, well, that was her problem.

Draco ran his hands across her body—her breasts her stomach and her…you know, AREA. The author was reluctant to say it because the author had never experienced smut. Had never even, actually, seen it, except for in other fanfics and stuff.

So she knew exactly what to do.

Draco entered Hermione slowly and miracle of miracles it didn't hurt at all for Hermione! Because Draco was so gentle, of course. "This is wonderful," Hermione smiled. The author had decided that sex was only painful for mere MUGGLES. Wizards could have sex all the time and it didn't hurt a bit.

Later, Draco and Hermione lay in his bed. Hermione was so happy when Draco spooned her. "I love you," she whispered raggedly.

Draco was confused. He had thought this bit in the story wasn't supposed to surface for a while, but he shrugged and went along with it. "Ditto."

"You know," Hermione cried into his shoulder, "Harry and Ron have abandoned me! COMFORT me! COMFORT me! I need comfort!"

Draco mumbled comforting comforting words that comforted Hermione in ways she'd never been comforted in before. It was just so comfortable!

"You wonderful comforter, you," Hermione sighed. "I don't care about Harry and Ron anymore. I never will."

"That's right," Draco nodded, "Potter and Weasley are idiots. You know what…since they hurt you, let's KILL them!"

"Um, yeah, I don't think so," Hermione said no. She was too good for that, the author knew.

"Okay but let's just scare them, all right?"

Hermione nodded. This she could do.

So Draco and Hermione challenged Harry and Ron to a midnight duel in gasp! The Trophy Room. See, the author pointed out, I AM following canon. I AM.

That night Harry and Ron met Hermione and Draco in the trophy room. "Hermione!" they gasped. "What are you doing here with old fuckwit?"

"He is not a fuckwit," Hermione said primly, "He is a lovely boy."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. "Whatever," they said unanimously. "K so let's get this party started."

"Hey, Hermione," Draco whispered, "Let's do Avada Kedavra. Don't worry. It won't really kill them. It will scare them."

Hermione looked pained and then nodded. "K cool. It wont' kill them right?"

"Nopers," Draco nodded. "Not at all."

He took out his wand and pointed it at Harry. "Avada Kedavra!" he yelled. Harry crumpled to the floor. "Avada Kedavra" he yelled to Ron, the bastard, for dumping Hermione. Ron crumpled to the floor.

Hermione raced over to her ex-friends and felt their pulses. There was none. "You lied to me!" she looked at Draco. "You lied!"

"Eh, they so deserved it," Draco said. "They hurt you."

"You're right," Hermione agreed. "They did hurt me! Oh the bad boys! They were so bad!"

And with that she linked arms with her own personal hit-man and went off frolicking into the sunset.

A/N: Heh, heh. So comes the Harry-and-Ron abandon Hermione cliché. They didn't know they were going to die for that! Ok, that whole, let's kill whoever hurts you plot that Draco came up with, totally came from the movie _Heathers_. I love that deeply dark and disturbing yet funny movie!

All right, let's answer your questions. First off, number one—no, I'm definitely not thirteen. The made-up author of this fic that injects author's notes in the story, might be somewhere around there. But not me. That's what makes this fun.

Secondly, to **distantorigin**- don't worry, I definitely do know my share of Good Draco/Hermione fics. I love Draco/Hermione and there are a tons out there that are really good. I have some of my favorite fic recs in my bio.

Anyway, don't forget to review! Pleez they r lyk mi food!1!11! LOLZ! Ah, and more clichés are on the way, including: Hermione is pregnant with Draco's child, Draco and Hermione get stuck in a small space miraculously, the Draco-and-Hermione-live-next-to-each-other cliché, and I'd like some more ideas! Believe me there are plenty! And thanks to **Alessandra-Elisabeth** for the idea of this cliché.


	7. Ron's Big, Big, Big Mistake

Merlin, Not Another Cliché!

Summary: Ron breaks up with Hermione, and guess who swoops in to save our falling damsel? Draco of course! Warning: Serious Ron-bashing ensues. And I do mean _serious_.

**Ron's Big, Big, Big Mistake**

Hermione's face was blotchy-blue-red. Gross, the author thought. Absolutely stinking gross. And it was the perfect way to get across that our darling dear Hermione was truly heartbroken thanks to Ronald Fitzgerald Weasley, the world's biggest asshole and craptacular freakishly large footed freak of nature.

She had already gone through ninety-four and a half boxes of Weenex, the number one leading brand of Wizard Tissues which were magically enhanced to hold twice the number of solid tears! Amazing! Damn stupid Ron how dare he break up with her like that. It had been absolutely tragic. Oh, tragic wasn't even the right word. It was indescribable pain that Hermione felt, like a fire that had once burned within her, deep and lush and passionate, had been stamped out cruelly by the one boy she thought was The One.

Twenty pages more of long, poetic, bordering on sappy prose followed, explaining in detail Hermione's moist misery and tears, the way her blood had even turned yellow with ache and how her sanguine nature had dissipated into a soggy mess of unhappy, unholy, unworthiness.

In other words: the poor girl's been dumped, yo!

Soon her sadness turned to anger. How could Ron have done such a poopy thing! I mean seriously, how POOPY can you GET!

Yes, poopy was the coolest word on the streets these days, and the author just had to show off how freakin' mod she was.

Mod as in modern. Duh, come on, kids!

Hermione remembered the break-up as if it were yesterday. Come to think of it, it _was_ yesterday.

_"Hermione my sweet darling pie-piece!"__ Ron had said like always. She hadn't expected anything was wrong._

_"Yes my sweet lovely pumpkin-juice cranberry love?" She had asked just like always._

_"Will you fuck me?" He asked, like always._

_And like always, Hermione hesitated, thought about it, and decided you know what, she just wasn't ready. "No."_

_And instead of saying, "Oh that's all right my itsy spider-hating pink blueberry muffin, I'll just use my hand" like he always did, Ron had said something different._

_He had said, "Well Hermione, I don't know if I can go without sex anymore. I'm a teenage guy, babe. I gots hormones and someone's got to take care of them, right?"_

_She had nodded oh-so-tentatively, unsure and wary of what would come next._

_"I hear Luna Lovegood loves good," he told her easily. "And that's where I intend to be. In other words sweet pea, it's over. Sorries! Oh and by the way you might want to consider a boob-enhancing charm. You're a little on the small side."_

The nerve of that insolent little fucktard! How dare he! She turned to her diary and poured out sixty lines of fresh Ron-sucks-ass material. And then she felt better; the catharsis had helped.

Lavender and Parvati, the giggle twins, came in at that second. The author knew how to effectively use the two girls. They were brainless airheads that had a damn good sense of style, gave good head, drooled over Draco, and secretly fancied Snape. Right now the author intended to use clause Draco in order to introduce the dreamy hero of the fic.

"Oh Hermione," Parvati sighed. "Don't be sad. Ron is just a stupid prat-git. No one likes him."

"Except Luna who's fucking him!" Hermione sobbed.

"Ew, Mione," Lavender interjected. "Luna wears the weirdest clothes. And she smells strange too. You're so much better than her. Ron can only get a freak like her to lay him."

"You know who's looking mighty fine?" Parvati suggested. "And he's totally available."

"Who?" Hermione asked innocently. She didn't know the passion that she was yet to experience…

"Draco Malfoy!" the girls chorused.

Hermione was shocked. "Malfoy? But… that's scandalous! Malfoy objectifies women even more than Ron that stinking little (&)&)(&)(&)( (&)(&! )&()(!&))(!&!"

"Well Ron is a much bigger &)(()(&)(!& than Draco," Parvati said wisely. "You'd be better off with Draco. Go look him over. I hear he takes a bath in the prefects bathroom at three every day. It's two-forty-nine Hermione. It's up to you if you want to give him a chance."

Hermione thought about it. Sure Draco was a big annoying stretch mark of a problem, but he was better than Ron. And why pass up the chance to see a nice boy body?

"All right girls," she decided. "Enough moping. I'm off to have a look at Draco's ass."

"Take a picture please," Lavender swooned. "Yummity yum yum!"

So Hermione went into her friend Harry's dorm, cuz that was totally normal, stole his Invisibility cloak and crept into the prefect's bathroom at two-fifty-eight.

At precisely three – because Draco was so cool that his routine was down to the exact, yo – Draco stepped in and promptly disrobed.

Hermione's breath hitched. He was be-be-be-be-be-yoo-ti-ful! I mean gorgeous, hypnotizing, sexy, smooth, fresh… in other words, everything Ron was not.

Ron was an ugly sore thumb of a freakity freak freak who freakishly freaked out freaking everybody. Ron was like a sick nasty loser.

Draco heard her little breath and suspiciously asked, "who's there?"

Hermione threw off the cloak unable to stare in silence anymore. She blushed bright red when she realized he still wasn't wearing anything and he could see her.

"What are you doing here?" Draco smirked. He didn't seem in the least perturbed by his nakedness or her reaction.

"I'm sorry," and then her tears just started falling, "I just have to get over Ron…"

"you mean that ugly, Ugg-wearing, unanimously hated, undermining little urchin?" Draco asked with a smirk (he smirks all the time. The expression is practically plastered on his face. The author assures you that this is true. Just look at every fanfic out there).

"Yes exactly! That aggravating apple-fat acrimonious audacious asshole! That's him!" Hermione lightened. "I hate him! He dumped me for Luna Lovegood…" This brought a fresh onslaught of tears.

"Just because she loves good?" Draco asked. "What a dumb reason. Doesn't he know that having a girlfriend isn't all about sex? I mean seriously! A girlfriend is about having deep conversations and soulful looks and just happiness. Kissing and warm vanilla sugar fun like that. Sex is just so… special. You can't throw away lavender creamy nutmeg fuzzies for rough sex!"

"Exactly!" Hermione gasped. "you really get me! I'm astounded, considering you are… totally not on the same page as me."

Draco shrugged. "I dunno, I guess we get along pretty well when it comes to Ronald Fitzgerald Weasley."

"AKA Mr. I'm-a-sex-god-freak-loser-horny-bastard-boy?" Hermione asked.

"or AKA Mr. I'm-a-poor-fuck-that-fucks-his-sister-for-fun?" Draco smirked.

"Ooh I like it!" Hermione agreed although the language was clearly crossing the line. "That Ronald is an inbred ingrate. I hate him."

"Well I hate him too," Draco agreed.

Suddenly the air grew silent as Draco and Hermione realized that they had just agreed on something. Heck they'd even had a "civil conversation"! ( this "civil conversation" business comes from 1,835 fanfics. Sorry for stealing this line from you, if you are the author of one of those 1,835 fanfics. Oopsy-doopsy!).

"Hey," Draco said, realizing he was still naked. "You're welcome to… take a bath with me, if you want."

He meant it like offering a cookie, the author promised. Draco, the good guy, certainly didn't have any ulterior motives.

Hermione shrugged. "Well I guess so," she agreed and got naked and joined him.

This time Draco was the one who had to fight a blush. For she was like a goddess with her creamy skin, untouched by another man, her beauty astounding. He went on for forty pages about the way her curves curved or the delicate swell of her breasts. For Draco, my friends, was a poet. A real poet.

So they sat in silence and then finally they realized something. They liked each other, they weren't enemies.

And they were both itching to fuck.

"Draco," Hermione breathed as she scooted closer to him. "You get me so much better than Ron."

This was a cue for the snog-fest scene. For details please turn to a smutty fic.

After the snog-fest was finished Draco was looking for more and Hermione decided that her precious virginity was about to go bye-bye-bye, baby bye-bye-bye because she'd finally found the right guy.

So Ron never got what he wanted, that butt-ugly butthead, and Draco slowly took his place. Draco bought Hermione flowers and made love to her slowly. Draco wrote her poems and took pictures of her when she was sleeping. He gave her candy every day and stared at her in a way that could only be described as… creepy.

Ok so we're not all perfect, but Draco and Hermione lived happily ever after.

"Hey!" Hermione said suddenly. "I haven't cursed at Ron for… two minutes! Shit! Ron's a little prick with no prick who pricks girls and…"

And Draco joined in too. Oh they really were a perfect couple.

A/N: Sorry I don't "update" very often, but since they're one-shots I don't really feel inclined too. You guys are awesome with cliché ideas! I love them! I'll appreciate anymore I can get. I want to thank wickedwiccan1 for the idea of this particular cliché. Reviews will be appreciated.


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